Retribution Boxed Set (Books One and Two) (24 page)

She shook her head before she reached out and
gripped his hand.

“Yes,” he said in the calmest voice he could
muster. “Then they’re going to take you to the station. Don’t say anything
until you have a lawyer present. I’ll make sure Xander has someone lined up for
you.”

“Oh, God.” She started to cry again.

“I’ll be there, Janie, waiting for you. Okay? If
they find me here, I won’t be able to help you from the other side. They’ll
consider me biased.” He ignored the ethics warning firing in his head. He’d
seen what Paul was capable of and currently didn’t give a shit if this
investigation tilted toward Janie’s side. “Make the call, and then I’ll meet
you at the station. But you can’t say that I was here, okay?”

She blinked several times before releasing a
shuddering breath. “I don’t know where my phone is.”

“I’ll get it.” He rushed to the kitchen, noting
the shallow breaths in Paul’s chest. He snagged a tissue to keep his
fingerprints from planting on her phone before rushing back to her. He doubted
anyone would take prints because it wasn’t a murder investigation, but that
status could change at any minute.

With shaking fingers, she pressed the numbers
that put her through to the emergency line. He held her hand as she spoke in
short, jerky sentences, trying to explain to the dispatcher what had happened.

“No…I don’t know. I don’t want to touch him.” Her
questioning gaze jumped to Sam, and he shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he mouthed and then pointed toward
the exit. He stood, giving her a reassuring look as he walked toward the door.

Her terrified eyes grew larger as he drew farther
away. The urge to stay at her side multiplied, but he knew he had to leave. It
was the best for both of them.

As he closed the door and wiped his prints from
the knob, a sick feeling slithered over him. She needed him. He wanted to be
there for her.

Knowing that officers were on the way and that
he’d see her soon was the only thing that propelled him down the stairs and out
to his car.

*        *        *

Janie couldn’t say how much time passed before
she heard the sirens wailing toward her. The sound reminded her she could
breathe again.

After Sam had left, she’d stationed herself next
to the front door, prepared to make a run for it should Paul regain
consciousness. If he hadn’t died. God, what if he
had
during the past
few minutes?

What if she’d killed a man?

Bile rose from her stomach. She tried to swallow
it, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She ripped flowers from a vase near the
door and vomited inside.

Again and again, her stomach heaved, relieving
her of everything she’d eaten during the past few hours. Sweat beaded on her
forehead, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by someone
announcing, “
Police
.”

She reached for the knob and opened the door,
still hugging her vase.

A slender, male officer addressed her, his hand
hovering near his weapon. “We received a domestic violence call along with a
stabbing victim.”

“The kitchen,” she whispered, her throat sore
from the coating of acid. She moved out of the way and sagged against the wall.

The officer rushed past her as another cop moved
forward in his place. This one was also young, but female. She assessed her with
dark unreadable eyes. “Besides the head wound, are you all right, ma’am?”

“Some burns on my skin.” Janie set the vase back
on the table near the door. Her stomach had calmed, but she wasn’t strong
enough to clean her mess, yet.

The officer spoke into her shoulder mike, reporting
on the situation and checking on medical assistance. The person on the other
end responded, saying they were outside.

“Can you tell me what happened?” the officer
asked.

Janie took a deep breath, but before she could
answer, a crew of EMTs carrying a gurney arrived. They hurried into the
kitchen, and she listened, trying to tell from their flurry of activity and
hushed voices if Paul was still alive.

“Ma’am,” the officer said, pulling her back to
their conversation. “What happened here tonight?”

She wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “He
went crazy. I think he wanted to kill me.”

“Why do you say that?”

The officer’s intense gaze trapped her, making
her feel as though she couldn’t breathe again. She shivered as Sam’s words came
back to her, telling her to wait for an attorney. “Am I under arrest?”

“No, ma’am. Not yet. I’m just trying to ascertain
what took place.”

More noise from the kitchen distracted her, and a
second later, the EMTs pulled the gurney through the living room and out the
door. They hadn’t covered Paul’s ashen face which she hoped meant he was still
alive. They also hadn’t removed the knife protruding from his chest. She put a
shaking hand to her mouth as fresh tears ran from the corners of her eyes.

Dear God. She was a smart, savvy woman. Never, in
a million years, could she have imagined she’d end up where she now sat.

If she was going to see this thing through however
it ended, she’d need to steel her emotions. She had wanted out, away from Paul.
For better or for worse, she
had
broken free. Now she had to figure out
a way to keep that freedom.

“I think I would like to wait for my lawyer.”

Janie sat alone in the small interrogation room
inside the Central Precinct in downtown Portland. Barren walls surrounded her
with the exception of a large one-way mirror. She wrapped her arms around her
and prayed she wouldn’t have to wait long before Detective Holden arrived.

The sickening fear that had been coursing through
her veins since Paul attacked her had calmed, leaving her numb. The police had
brought her in for questioning, but so far, no one had said a word to her. They
had to be waiting for her lawyer to arrive. She hoped Xander and Nicole had
been able to find someone this late at night.

She laced her fingers together as her brain set
about creating the worst possible scenarios. Paul had died, and she’d be tried
for murder.
Or
, Paul lived and would be coming after her with a
vengeance. If he died, she could claim self-defense because that’s what it had
been, but what if they still found her guilty?

Then again, what if he was alive? He’d wanted to
hurt her for dancing with Sam. She couldn’t imagine how many ways he’d torture
her for what she’d done to him. She swallowed. Death would be the easy way out.

She splayed her fingers on the table in front of
her, trying to still her thoughts as well as her hands. She’d never done well
sitting in one place. It made her too nervous. She needed to be up, doing
something. Like cooking.

Playing with ingredients, creating new flavors
calmed her mind and her soul. She’d learned that at an early age while staying
at her grandmother’s house.

The sight of dirt beneath her fingernails caught
her attention, and she wondered how she’d gotten dirty. She turned her hands
palms up to inspect them, only to realize it wasn’t dirt, but dried blood. Could
have been hers. Could have been Paul’s. Both left her nauseated.

She startled when the door opened. In walked a
woman near her age with dark auburn hair dressed in black pants, a form-fitting
black jacket and a gray silk blouse underneath that clung to her, emphasizing
her trim waist and ample chest. Her clothes were gorgeous, her hair styled, and
Janie couldn’t help compare herself. She’d tossed on old jeans and a t-shirt
while the officer had waited. Her hair hung in limp strands after being soaked
in the shower, much like her spirit.

“Janie? The woman extended a hand. “I’m Eliana Conway.
Xander Secrist said you needed representation.”

“I do.” Janie shook her hand, noticing how warm Eliana’s
hand felt compared to her own. “My boyfriend—ex-boyfriend tried to hurt me
tonight.” How did she reduce her horrifying experience to mere words? “I
stabbed him.” It seemed so surreal now. “And hit him with a heavy fry pan.”

The woman arched a perfect brow. “I see.” She sat
next to her and removed a legal pad. “When you say hurt, do you mean…”

“He forced me into the shower and turned the
faucet all the way hot. He started to scald me, so I had to fight back.” She
folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking.

Eliana continued to scratch on her pad. “Were you
afraid for your life?”

“Yes,” she whispered, remembering the terrifying
feeling of Paul holding her in place and watching him adjust the water
temperature. Janie blinked rapidly, trying to control her tears. “He was so
angry.”

“When the officers interview you, please make
that clear. Don’t say he tried to hurt you. The wound on your forehead tells me
he did more than try. You tell them exactly how afraid you were.”

Janie nodded, taking a tissue from the box in the
middle of the table.

“Did the officers photograph the gash on your
head?”

“Yes.” She hadn’t had much time to inspect it at
home when she’d been changing clothes because the EMTs had placed a bandage
over it, but it pretty much covered the right half of her forehead. It also
hurt like hell.

“What other injuries do you have?”

Janie lifted the sleeve of her shirt so the day-old
bruise became visible. “That was from yesterday.” Then she lifted her left
wrist. Dark red with hints of purple circled her wrist like a bracelet. “He did
this tonight. There might be more on my stomach. He pushed me into the couch
pretty hard.” She touched the back of her head. “And yanked out some of my
hair.”

The woman pursed her lips together. “How long has
this abuse been going on?”

The door opened again, interrupting their
conversation, and in walked two men, one of them Sam, the other a younger man
with cropped dark hair. Thank God. The sight of a friendly face made her want
to cry all over again. Janie tried to capture his gaze, but he didn’t seem
particularly interested in making eye contact.

“Eliana,” Sam said to her attorney with a nod.

“Sam.” The woman gave him an easy smile that
bespoke some level of familiarity.

The other man echoed Sam’s greeting to her
attorney before he took the seat across from her. Sam sat at the end of the
table where he could observe without being in the direct line of questioning. Janie
inhaled a shuddering breath and let it slide out of her lungs. Her time of
reckoning had arrived.

Janie caught her attorney watching Sam and frowned.
She didn’t want to wonder if the beautiful lawyer had any kind of relationship
with the handsome detective. She had enough to worry about with her life in
chaos.

“Miss Singleton, I’m Detective Reed. This is my
partner, Detective Holden. We have a few questions for you.”

Janie folded her arms in front of her. The quiet
fear that had been simmering inside her since she’d arrived erupted again,
making her tremble. “Okay.”

For the first time since entering the room, Sam looked
directly at her. “Can you tell us what happened tonight?”

“We—Paul and I had been at a wedding where he’d
had a lot to drink. I think he might have been doing coke, too.” She closed her
eyes, sick to think she’d stayed with him for so long. “We’d been there a while
when he got very angry with me. He started to make a scene, but I convinced him
to leave.” Her gaze jumped to Sam’s.

He narrowed his eyes. “What made him so angry?”

“He, uh…” She swallowed past the thick lump in
her throat, now realizing how difficult it was to have Sam in the room. She’d
wanted someone on her side to help her through her ordeal, but confessing to
him was its own torture. “He saw me dancing with a friend.”

Sam’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He
stared at her. Hard. The muscles in his jaw clenched, and she glanced away, not
able to bear his expression.

“His name?” the younger officer asked.

Janie looked back to Sam for guidance, and he
turned away. “Steven Marsden,” she said, giving them the name of a childhood
acquaintance.

“It was just an innocent dance with a friend,”
she continued, trying to explain to the others. “But Paul didn’t see it that
way.”

“Then what happened?” Detective Reed asked.

“We left. I’d hoped he would calm down by the
time we got home, but he didn’t.” She wrapped her arms tighter around her waist.
“He wanted me to shower.” She paused. “To wash off the other man’s touch.” Her
chest expanded in jerks as she inhaled and then blew out the breath, trying to
detach from her emotions. “He said he wanted the water hot. Scalding hot.” She dug
at a hangnail, making it bleed. “I said okay. I thought I’d have time in the
bathroom to call for help, you know? But he cut my clothes off me with a knife,
holding the knife right up to my face and threatening me, and then he followed
me into the bathroom. He pushed me into the shower and then— Her voice hitched,
and she realized she was crying again.

Eliana pulled a tissue from the box and handed it
to her. “Take your time.”

She glanced at her attorney and then quickly to
the other faces.

Compassion filled Detective Reed’s eyes. Bloody
rage colored Sam’s.

“What did he do, Janie? Sam’s voice was soft,
belying his obvious emotions.

She held his gaze for a moment before dropping it
to the marred wooden table in front of her. “He turned the temperature all the
way to the hot side,” she whispered. “I knew then this wasn’t going to be one
of those times when he just smacked me around a little bit.” She looked at her
attorney, needing someone to anchor to. She’d been mistaken when she’d thought
Sam could have been that person. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“Fuck,” Sam said under his breath, and everyone
turned their gazes toward him. “Sorry.” He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Please
continue.”

She stared at Sam. She hadn’t wanted to tell him,
hadn’t wanted him to know he’d played a part in what had happened to her. “When
it started to burn, scalding my skin, I panicked. I shoved him, and we fell. I
hit my head.” She touched the spot above her eye. “I tried to get away, but he
grabbed me.” She glanced at Sam, saw the horror on his face, and her words came
faster. She needed to get this done and get out of there. “But I was wet so I
got away. I ran for the door, but he caught me. I hit him with the lamp…I
think.” Her memory started to jumble. “I couldn’t get out so I ran for the
kitchen to get something to protect myself with. A knife. I told him not to
come closer. He didn’t listen. He—I stabbed him.” She put a shaking hand over
her mouth. “He fell. But it didn’t stop him. So I hit him really hard with a
pan.”

She looked to Eliana, voicing the thoughts that
haunted her. “I didn’t kill him, did I?”

Her attorney shook her head and handed her
another tissue.

“The fu— Sam stopped for a moment as though to
gain control over his words. “Mr. Castell is currently in surgery. They believe
he’ll recover.”

A loud sob escaped her lips, and she put her head
on the table. It was as though she’d been holding her breath this whole time,
wondering if she’d killed a man. She was grateful she hadn’t. But now she’d
live her life in fear.

“Is that good enough for you, detectives?” Eliana
asked. “My client has been through a traumatic ordeal tonight. I’d like to get
her out of here if you don’t mind. I think she needs to see a doctor. I’d like
to have the remainder of her bruises documented.”

“The remainder?” Sam asked, disbelief echoing in
his voice.

Eliana took her wrist with gentle hands and
turned it over. “She has this one here and who knows where else.”

“No.” Janie lifted her head. “I don’t want to go
to a doctor.”

“You need—”

Sam interrupted her attorney. “We can document
everything here. We have a female officer on duty that can take pictures.”

“Okay,” Janie agreed before Eliana could argue
otherwise. “Then I want to go home.”

The room went silent.

She glanced at her attorney who was currently
challenging the detectives with raised brows.

Sam gave a small nod of his head to his partner.

“We won’t be making an arrest in the case until
we’ve gathered more information,” Detective Reed answered. “But make sure you
don’t leave town.”

“Me? She was sure she must have misheard. “I
can’t leave town? When Paul recovers, he’ll kill me.” She glanced to Sam, but
he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “
I’m
the victim here.” Sam was supposed to be
helping her, not throwing her to the wolves.

“I understand, Miss Singleton.” Detective Reed
eyed her with a serious, but not unkind look. “I don’t want to seem
insensitive, but you did stab a man tonight.”

Every muscle inside her tightened in response. “
In
self defense
.”

Her attorney took her arm. “It’s okay, Janie. This
is common practice. These men need to follow procedure, but there’s plenty of evidence
to suggest it was self-defense.” She turned to the men and spoke in harsher
tones. “Let’s get that photographer and get this done.”

“One more thing, Miss Singleton. We have your
phone number listed, but no address. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Oh, God…nowhere.

As of that moment in time, she was homeless with
nothing but the clothes on her back. She’d needed a little more time to secure
somewhere new to live. But Paul had taken that from her. “I want to call my
friend, Nicole.” She glanced at Sam. “She’ll let me stay with her.” Maybe that
was the solution to her problem since Nicole and Xander would be leaving on
their honeymoon, and that would give her time to hear back from the job in
Texas.

Sam tore a piece of paper from his notebook and
slid it across the table to her with a pen. “If you’ll give me her number, I’ll
call her while our officer documents your injuries.”

Janie wrote Nicole’s number on the paper knowing
Sam already had Xander’s. But he’d asked her to play along so she would, though
it didn’t seem to help her having Sam at the station with her. He appeared to
be all cop and zero friend.

He took the lined paper and stood, Detective Reed
following suit.

“Once Officer Collins is finished taking photos,
you’re free to leave,” said the dark-haired officer.

Janie waited with her attorney for the female
officer to arrive, hating the fact that her stupidity would be forever documented,
but knowing it was a necessity if she ever needed to prove her innocence. Which
she wouldn’t. Paul wouldn’t press charges against her. It would bring him too
close in contact with the law. He was in enough trouble for what he’d done to
her. Besides, he had his own way of solving problems, none of it legal.

*        *        *

“Something wrong with you, man? Noah Reed rounded
on Sam as soon as he closed the door behind them.

The question caught him off guard. “What do you
mean?”

“I’ve never seen you react like that during a
questioning before. Showing emotion in front of a witness? Hell, I don’t think
I’ve
ever
seen you that pissed off.”

“What can I say? He started walking toward their
tiny office, acting as casual as possible, but needing to escape his partner’s
direct gaze. “Any time a man abuses a woman or child, it makes my blood boil.” Noah
was well aware of the fact that abuse cases carried a special place in his
heart. “You know that.” Sam wished someone had been there for his sister when
she’d found herself in that desperate place. Hunter had helped him get justice
afterward, but that hadn’t changed the outcome. Sam stopped in front of their
office door and faced his partner, daring him to deny it.